


Shōjō Party

by FamilyTrucksterImagines (oncruisecontrol)



Series: Dean Winchester Reader-Insert One Shots [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drunken Confessions, F/M, Fluff, Hangover, Hidden Talents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 19:32:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11881311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncruisecontrol/pseuds/FamilyTrucksterImagines
Summary: After a night of drinking and killing monsters, Dean is desperate to know what stupid things he said to you while drunk.





	Shōjō Party

“What do you remember from last night?” Sam asked the room in general. Everyone but you was sporting massive hangovers. Even Cas, an _angel_ , was refusing to open his eyes. He was quite annoyed with you, in fact, because you’d been the most plastered of all of them last night, but were more or less fine now. (The trick was food and water before bed, but you wouldn’t tell him that.)

“I remember Y/N climbing on a table, yelling ‘Shōjō party!’ and trying to break a beer bottle and that’s it,” Cas mumbled.

You smiled proudly. You never did have any shame.

Dean shook his head. “I don’t even remember that.”

Sam turned to you expectantly.

“Oh,” you said. “Everything. It was a good time. Learned a few lessons, too. For instance: don’t give Drunk Sam a sword. Honestly, I wish I’d gotten the whole night on video.”

“Did any of us do anything else stupid?” Dean asked.

“Well, Cas nearly got arrested for public intoxication and you… you say the darndest things while drunk. It’s cute.”

Sam stole the mug of coffee out of your hand, eliciting an ignored protest. “What exactly did he say?”

“Oh no. My secret.”

Dean frowned. “Come on.”

“Nope. You can let that curiosity rot you. I’m gonna go update my journal and start looking for a case.” You took your mug back from Sam and threw them a wave as you walked out. Truth be told, you weren’t keeping Dean’s drunken ramblings a secret just to mess with them. Really, you were trying to save him the embarrassment and questioning that would come from the guys if they found out. You were just doing him a favor.

You were alone in the library for almost two hours, which you were totally fine with. It was nice to find some quiet every now and then, especially when you were trying to get some actual work done.

You’d just found something that sounded like it was up your alley just as Dean came in and placed himself right in front of you. You didn’t look up from your laptop at his presence, which you knew always annoyed him.

He cleared his throat.

“What’s up, buttercup?” you asked.

“I wanna know.”

“Oh. Uh, there’s this thing in Connecticut. Bunch of beheadings.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “No, not that. I wanna know what I said.”

You glanced up momentarily. “It wasn’t anything that interesting, D. Promise.”

He grumbled for a minute before reaching over and shutting your laptop.

“Hey! I was–”

“Don’t care. Tell me.”

You sighed, leaning back. “You said that you were in love with me.”

“I what?”

“The phrases you used were ‘beautifullest woman ever’ and ‘wanna take you to Vegas and get hitched.’”

His eyes widened. It was a while before he spoke. “Wait, why don’t you find that interesting?”

“Because you were wasted and talking out of your ass. And besides, I know you. I knew you couldn’t have meant it.”

He looked offended. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

You laughed lightly. “You, in love. And with me, of all people. It’s not exactly realistic,” you said, shrugging. “So no worries, I didn’t take it to heart.”

“I just don’t see why it’s so unrealistic.”

“Because you don’t fall for people. And when you do, they’re… I’m not your type. I know that.”

“What’s my type, then?”

You rubbed your eyes. This conversation had become un-fun real quick. You’d always carried a torch for Dean, but you managed to keep those feelings buried way down deep with all your others. It made it easier to keep your hopes low (or, more accurately, nonexistent) and just coexist with the guy. But now he just had to drag this shit up and refuse to drop it for the life of him.

You hated thinking about the other women; hated comparing yourself to them. “You always go for these women who are kind, and kickass, and patient, and sweet, and gorgeous, and that’s… I mean, that’s a good thing. They’re fantastic. Always. And when you want them, you get them, because you can have like, anybody, so…” You shook your head. “It’s just not me, and that’s fine.”

He frowned. “What kind of bullshit was that?”

“What?”

“You’re so ridiculous sometimes.”

“Appreciated.”

“I mean, just… you’re all of that stuff and more. You’re beautiful and sexy. And sure, you might be a little standoffish occasionally, but you’re nice to me and Sam and Cas, and that’s what counts for me. And you’re badass as hell. I swear, I fell in love with you the first time I saw you bash a djinn’s brains in with a candelabrum.”

“Fairly confident I’ve only done that once.”

“Y/N.”

“Right, sorry. Um, so you are… you weren’t… you really… seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.”

“But not about the Vegas thing, right?”

“I’m willing to wait on that.”

“We can work up to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> (Find this story on Tumblr [here](https://cruisecontroller-imagines.tumblr.com/post/164478111501/sh%C5%8Dj%C5%8D-party-dean-winchester-x-reader-words-825).)


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